THE GIFT-PART 4-Getting Home

THE GIFT-Part 4-Getting Home

“This won’t hurt a bit,” said Morty. He pushed and pulled the saw back and forth through Connie’s sap filled trunk in rapid motions. Seconds later, Connie fell onto the spot where the rabbit huddled at night to stay warm. The empty birds’ nest clung to his branches.

Morty saw the rabbit hiding under a nearby tree, “Well, Mr. Rabbit, come home with me. I’ll keep you warm.”

The rabbit jumped out. “Will you take care of me the way Connie did?”

“Yes,” said Morty, “come with me.” Morty hadn’t finished talking to the rabbit when the cardinal, the sparrow, and the chickadee appeared from nowhere and circled around his head.

“Will you take care of us too?”

“Sure,” he said. “Come with me. We will have a great time.”

“Hold on tight, Connie, I have to drag you to the wagon.” They left a track through the needles on the ground as Morty pulled Connie behind him. They stopped in front of the tall Balsam for a rest.
“I can see that you found the perfect tree,” said the Balsam.

“Yes,” said Morty, “thank you very much. I couldn’t have done it without your expert directions.”

“Have a very Merry Christmas,” replied Balsam, “I wish I could be going with you.”

Farmer Jim came and found them. He helped Morty lift Connie onto the hay wagon.

“I never thought about how I would bring a tree home on my scooter,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” said Farmer Jim, “I will help you get the tree onto your scooter. I have to help everyone who comes here.  I have lots of experience with that.”

The tractor stopped in front of the shed next to the barn. Farmer Jim slid Connie into the wrapping machine, and pushed the button. A big wheel started circling around Connie. The noisy machine pulled cord around the branches, and squeezed them tightly into Connie’s trunk. When the noise stopped, Connie was much thinner than before.

Morty carried Connie to his scooter, and just stared. He could not see how to load him. The compartment was only big enough to hold a picnic lunch and some tools. The scooter was smooth all over. It didn’t have anything sticking out to tie a rope around.

“What am I going to do?”  Morty placed the tree against the side of the scooter. “Nope, that won’t work,” he said. Next, he laid Connie onto the seat. He fit nicely along the top and hanging over the end, but Morty would have to sit on top of him to drive.

“I don’t like that either. I know, I’ll sit and hold him between my legs.” He held Connie upright between his arms. “That is worse because I can not see to drive with Connie in my face.”

Farmer Jim finally came out and tied Connie to the seat.

“You will have to sit on him,” he told Morty.”

“Okay, but I don’t like it, come on kids hop on.”

The bunny jumped on and huddled by his feet, and the birds found secret openings in the branches to hide in.

“I’ll go slow,” said Morty.

“Good, I don’t want you to lose me after all that fuss.”

Morty drove Sky-scooter slowly and silently. The only sound came from Connie. He was singing Happy Birthday.

To be continued , , , ,

How the Garden Has Taught Me Conservatism

One of my passions is bird watching. I love to see and identify birds in my yard. I do not go to the woods, or to exotic places to watch, I watch from my kitchen table. The trick is to attract a large variety of birds. There are several ways to do this. One way is to create an environment that is conducive to birds. Plantings of trees, shrubs, flowers, and a water feature all add to the formula. The biggest trick of all is bird feeding.  Free easy to get food does it every time.

The problem with providing free, easy to get food is that soon, the feeders are empty, that necessitates constant maintenance, and considerable cost. If the free food secret stayed with pretty birds, it would not be too bad. What happens though is that the illegal aliens arrive to take advantage. The less colorful and common bird’s will crowd out the colorful birds. Soon, animals of many species join in the fest. Everyone loves a free meal. Squirrels, raccoons, possum, rabbits, deer, you name it, if it lives around here it comes to the feeder.

Another thing I have observed is that the free food factor attracts a single species of bird more than others do. The English House Sparrow is the most common visitor. It is not one, but many. I see as many as six of them perched on a feeder; gorging themselves. When I take a walk around the house, a flock of sparrows will flee from the feeder as I approach.

So often, I tell myself, “This is just like a welfare program.” If I stop, the birds go away, and find natural food sources. When I feed, they all come to take advantage of the entitlement. Am I wrong to train these creatures to accept the handout? Would I better serve God’s creatures by ignoring them to find food on their own?

Yesterday, I spent considerable time pulling thistle from my flowerbed. The sweat and effort was of my own doing. By providing thistle seed for the goldfinches, I am guilty of spreading the weed all through the yard. It happens two ways. One is by bird droppings, and the other is by spillage from the feeder. Thistle is a nasty weed whose roots spread horizontally, and send shoots up every six inches. Pulling thistle only brings it back with a vengeance. The broken roots sprout new plants almost immediately.

I wonder what damage I do by feeding birds while they raise their young. I often see a mother bird placing seed into the mouth of a fledgling near the feeder. What if the parent never teaches the fledgling to seek natural sources of food? What if the fledge relies entirely on my source? Will he survive, or will he require a feeder for the remainder of his life?

Gardeners are never satisfied with the natural environment of a location. Here in Illinois, we live on a prairie. A prairie habitat is prolific with perennial plants that most gardeners abhor. Yet, when we view a prairie in its natural splendor, it is beautiful. Have you ever seen a field of Queen Anne’s lace in bloom? It is absolutely- gorgeous. The same is true of a field of yellow dandelions. A gardener will attack both of these flowers vigorously. He wants to improve on nature to appease his own sensibilities. He wants color, texture, and order. He wants plant material that will not overtake the plants he has imported, and placed into his canvas. Is not that what we do as socialists? We are never happy with man’s plight in a natural form. We are always looking for a way to improve someone else’s life. In the process, we screw up the natural order of things. We feel sorry for those who cannot provide for themselves, and provide. The result is that others see what we provide, and find the loophole that allows them to ride free too.

Program after program designed to do humankind some good become nightmares. Providing free breakfast and lunch for poor kids at school has led to obesity. Now we need a program to eliminate obesity. Instead of finding the root cause of a kid’s starvation, we provide. It is the socialist way. Promoting abortion, and forms of birth control to keep the population of poor people down, has led to a loss of population. So much so, that we now need to allow unlimited immigration to keep our culture alive. Tampering with nature by inventing an endless intrusion of improvements only makes the world a lousier place to live.

What does this have to do with the garden and conservatism? I have learned that by trying to make my garden a canvas of color, scent, and sound that I am upsetting the natural order. Every plant out of its natural place comes with a cost. Every new species, brings a new predator, be it a bug or animal. Every attempt to make a beautiful environment is at a great expense of time, energy, and cost. If I were content to live in the environment that is natural to my spot on this earth, my life would be much easier, simpler, and less expensive.

The Gift (A serial, part three)

THE GIFT (A serial, part three)

The little tree answered, “My name is Connie, short for Coniferous. How can I be so special? My work is to provide a house for the birds, and to shelter the rabbit that sleeps under my boughs. This past summer I had three families of birds living in my branches. What will they do without me to provide for them?”

“The Boss will take care of them,” said Morty, “besides, the many trees of the forest will help them. It is a great honor to do something special for Jesus’ birthday. Then, after Christmas is over, I will use your branches to warm my house. Please do it.”

Connie hesitated a bit and said, “If I choose to accept, then I am giving myself totally to the Baby Jesus. I will live only as long as the sap within my branches will support my needles.”

“I realize that,” said Morty, “that’s why I picked you. You are magnificent and when I am finished dressing you, I know you will please Jesus, and make him smile. I will have my friends string popcorn beads, painted pine cones, icicles, and snowflakes on your branches. I will lay strings of colorful lights on your boughs. Near the lights, I will hang crystal ornaments to reflect the light onto the needles of your branches. On your top stem, I will place a crystal star. You will look stunning. I’ll play Christmas carols and sing while I’m decorating so we can get into the spirit of Christmas.”

Connie agreed that pleasing Jesus on his day was important. He knew that Christmas day was special. This was his chance to do something he could not do if he remained in the forest and grew up for the wood mill harvest. Finally, Connie said,
“It will be an honor to be your gift to Jesus.

To be continued . . . .

Dumb-Ass Heron

Last week I wrote about a Great Blue Heron that found my pond. He has been visiting steadily ever since. My last words were , “I hope it freezes tonight so he will migrate south.”  The past few nights the temperature has been in the twenties, and the pond is frozen over. He is still here. 

Late this afternoon, I saw him standing at the edge of the pond waiting for it to defrost. How dumb can he be?

I had to look in my Peterson Field Guide  to learn that the Heron’s summer-winter range cuts right through the south end of Chicago. The crazy bird may decide to winter here. I always thought  Herons relied solely on aquatic creatures for nourishment, but I learn that they also take small mammals. Oh well.